


The Red Door

by London9Calling



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: BDSM, BDSM Scene, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Cages, Consensual Non-Consent, Crotch Sniffing, Humiliation, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Slut Shaming, Unconventional Alpah/Beta/Omega Dynamics, minor Bloodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 04:05:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19265551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London9Calling/pseuds/London9Calling
Summary: Chanyeol could easily be mistaken for a textbook example of an Alpha: tall, strong, a tad bit hot-headed, forever fighting with a stubborn streak and the need to win. Some might say the same is true of Do Kyungsoo: at first appearance he looks like the picture perfect omega, checking off all the right boxes with his quiet personality and unobtrusive demeanor. But first impressions can be deceiving, which is why, three days a week after work,  Park Chanyeol ducks into the narrow, dimly lit alley, and knocks on a tightly locked red door. Chanyeol never tarries at the office these days because he knows Kyungsoo will be waiting, and he’ll have hell to pay if he’s late.





	The Red Door

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zairanang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zairanang/gifts).



> This fic includes Consensual Nonconsent and several BDSM elements. Please keep in mind that Chansoo’s sex life in this fic is entirely consensual (I touch on consent in the fic but don’t go into great detail). 
> 
> Read the tags! If there is anything you are uncomfortable with in the tags, I do not recommend reading this work. 
> 
> Written for [Zairanang~~](https://twitter.com/London9Calling/status/1140972429268983811)

Park Chanyeol scrolled down the contract, eyes scanning the legalese. His computer monitor flickered, an annoying and familiar stripe of light traveling from the top of the black flat screen monitor to the bottom. He was certain he would end up needing a new one by the end of the month, his fifth monitor in a year. IT was going to chew him out again.

Behind him, outside of the six-foot by six-foot windows, the street lights turned on, natural light dying to that hazy evening cast before the sun went completely down. Somewhere down the hall, the noise of a late day conference call sounded, the words muffled but the unmistakable beep and dial tones easy enough to pick up, even through Chanyeol’s closed office door. 

Chanyeol glanced at the time, then scrolled faster down the document, clicking and adding a comment to three sections before he was shooting it back to his secretary, Junmyeon, to revise. He would probably have to recheck it before he went to bed, but for now, it was good enough.  It was almost seven o’clock, he had only minutes to get out of his office and catch a taxi to the other side of town. 

If he was late…. he swallowed thickly, the thrum of excitement skittering through him. 

Chanyeol stood, grabbing his suit jacket off the back of his desk chair. He clicked out of his email and logged out, fumbling to get his coat on while he reached for his phone and keys. He managed to make it halfway to the door of his office when he stopped, picking up a scent that had him cursing low under his breath. 

A soft knock followed a few seconds later, a soft well-manicured hand tapping softly on his door. 

Chanyeol gritted his teeth and reached for the doorknob. “Sorry, but I was just leaving––” When he opened the door, the full scent hit him in a rush. A pre-heat omega, pheromones strong, doing her best to present to an available alpha. “You’ll have to stop by tomorrow morning, or I think Jongdae might still be in.”

“Oh!” Karen took a step back, heels sliding against the carpet. “Sorry, I didn’t realize-”

Chanyeol brushed past the intern, not sparing her another glance. He highly doubted she didn’t realize anything, judging by the way her top button was undone, her hair which had been in a bun suddenly loose around her shoulders. “See you tomorrow.” He raised his hand in a half-hearted wave and took long strides towards the elevator. 

“B-bye, Mr. Park,” she stammered after him.

If he had a dollar for every time an omega intern, male or female, had tried it with him or one of the other un-mated junior partners over the years, he would be a filthy rich man by now. 

The elevator dinged open, doors sliding to reveal it was empty. 

Good, Chanyeol thought. Now it better stay that way. I can’t be late. Not tonight.

Of all nights,  _ not tonight.  _

  
  


Chanyeol sat in the back of the taxi, tapping his fingers on his cell phone. His excitement built the closer they got to that part of town. 

“You some kind of lawyer or something?” the taxi driver (a beta judging by his scent) asked, Chanyeol catching his eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“Uh. Yeah,” Chanyeol answered. The driver had picked him up near his office, it should have been obvious what he did for a living considering the block was thick with law offices. 

“I saw you in that advertisement, the big billboard near thirtieth and Elm,” the driver explained, apparently only marginally observant. “You must make a lot of money.”

Chanyeol nodded, turning his head to stare out the window. He really didn’t feel like making small talk. He didn’t feel like explaining he was a junior partner, or that the real money was being made by the senior partners at the firm. He glanced at his phone. No new messages.

“My son is thinking about law school, but I’m not sure he’s smart enough. Plus, the expense,” the driver continued to ramble. “His mother though, she pushes him towards it. That or a doctor, but she said she wants one of each. But then you know, she says, the little one can be the doctor since he’s an omega. The oldest is an alpha, so makes sense he’s a lawyer she says.”

Chanyeol feigned a polite smile. “I see.”

“Hype, if you’re some hotshot alpha lawyer, why are you coming to this part of town?” the driver blurted out. “Aren’t you afraid of being robbed or something.”

“My friend lives here,” Chanyeol answered, hoping the man would shut up soon. 

“How does a guy like you have a friend that lives here?” Or apparently not. 

“I just do,” Chanyeol answered, cryptically.  _ I just do. _

His phone buzzed a single word text.  _ Blue. _

Chanyeol typed out an  _ Ok  _ and hit send. 

 

Park Chanyeol had met Do Kyungsoo at a nightclub, one that catered to their chosen lifestyle - more specifically, the roles they liked to assume, the ones that gave them that immeasurable sense of satisfaction, of arousal, and of release. 

It had taken Chanyeol most of his adult life to find the courage to go to a nightclub like that. He had gone through years of absolute self-loathing, another year of being convinced something was wrong with him. He was an alpha and everyone around him, every fiber of society, reinforced the way he should act, the way he should think, and who he should be attracted to. But none of it felt right to him, and at the end of the day, none of it provided what his body craved. In fact, it stressed him out. His job stressed him out. His parents, his friends. The relatives who liked to ask him why he wasn’t mated yet. The co-workers who commented on him not having a framed photo of an omega on his desk turned towards where only he could see it  _ bc his omega _ . 

Stress. It was Chanyeol’s constant state of existence. 

Sure, he had the high paying job in the high pressure, alpha-eat-alpha world of law. He had a fancy muscle car he only drove on weekends and an apartment that was decorated in bold colors, with pop-art on the wall. He liked to play sports, golf, bowling — and he wanted to win. He was competitive, too competitive in fact and quick to anger if he lost. 

An alpha. In those regards, Chanyeol was what an alpha should be, at least according to society. 

Except he wasn’t. Not at the end of the day. Not all the time. A part of him needed to let it go, to have an outlet for all the energy that seethed through him in a constant flow. 

Do Kyungsoo was his outlet, but an entirely unexpected one. Chanyeol had perused the website of Club Supernova a dozen times before that night, working up his courage slowly. When he arrived at the club, he had a moment of panic, debating if he should just turn and leave. 

The club was heavy with scents that didn’t match what Chanyeol’s eyes were seeing. Alpha pheromones hung thick in the air, increasing near the spot where a tall man was being flogged with an electric blue whip. The person doing the flogging was undoubtedly a beta; the barely-there scent clinging to the woman told Chanyeol as much. Closer to the bar a group of omegas was chatting noisily, an alpha on a leash waiting obediently near one of them. 

Having never been in a place like that, in a place so markedly different than what was expected, left Chanyeol feeling vulnerable and nervous. He sat near the bar, wringing his hands, and ordered a drink. He had made it to the Club, he needed to focus on his small victory and not overwhelm himself. 

Do Kyungsoo was the bartender. Small. Cute. An omega that at first seemed rudely out of place. Kyungsoo acted demure, taking Chanyeol’s order and returning with the half-full glass of scotch like a good omega following an alpha’s orders. Chanyeol watched Kyungsoo, uncertain why he was so attracted to someone so unfortunately typical, someone who was blatantly not his type. He wasn’t at the club for the typical and Kyungsoo reeked of typical. 

Chanyeol nursed his scotch. He even managed to talk to a beta that sidled up to him, asking him about his fetishes like he was asking where Chanyeol went to college. But it was Kyungsoo who his eyes kept returning to. He was unable to ignore the bartender who leaned in when people ordered, who spoke with a deep voice, who was unfailingly polite. 

Chanyeol finally gave up, standing he tossed a few dollars on the bar and prepared to leave. He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. Kyungsoo didn’t say anything, he just slid the paper towards him. Chanyeol picked it up, raising an eyebrow as he read the phone number. He called it a few days later, which was eight months ago. 

It had been eight months since he found himself, his true self, slowly putting the pieces together with Do Kyungsoo’s help. In a tiny apartment in the wrong part of town, behind a double-bolted door, red paint chipping off of it, Park Chanyeol found his release. 

  
  


Chanyeol climbed out of the taxi, slipping the driver a few bills from his wallet. A light rain started to fall, leaving Chanyeol to pull his collar up and hurry his steps down the street, towards the familiar alley. He kept his head down as he walked, the rain wetting his hair and rolling down his forehead. 

The moments before he reached the familiar red door were always used for his mind to adjust, to anticipate, to shift to the place he so wanted to live in most of the time. 

The place he was about to enter. 

One of the older women who ran the nearby corner store — the one that was robbed at least three times every month — waved at him; he mustered a small wave back. The neighborhood had gotten used to him, and he had gotten used to it in turn. 

It smelled like spoiled food, and there was graffiti everywhere, windows boarded up, and more vacant storefronts than filled ones, but he didn’t care. As long as it led him down the narrow alley, he could care less. 

Chanyeol turned left, hurrying his steps into a jog. The heel of his dress shoe splashed in a puddle of an unidentified liquid, too dark to be rainwater, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t be late. 

When he reached the red door, he was slightly breathless, his hair damp and his suit jacket splotched with water. He looked like a mess, but it was nothing compared to how he would look very soon. Chanyeol reached in his pocket and fumbled for the key he kept on the ridiculous smiley emoji keychain he’d won at an arcade eons ago. Kyungsoo had given a key to him after two months, and he’d been particularly careful not to lose it, completely unlike how he treated the keys to most of his things. 

Chanyeol inserted the key in the lock and turned, the familiar click of the deadbolt sending his heart into a faster thrum of excitement. Chanyeol reached for the doorknob and twisted it, slowly opening the creaking door. It was dark inside, pitch black. 

Chanyeol stepped over the threshold, swallowing thickly. It felt like he was shedding a layer, a mask, a portion of him staying in the alley, not allowed entry into this place. He smiled into the darkness, pulling the door closed behind him. 

He was met with a heavy silence. His eyes started to adjust to the darkness, enough so he could almost make out the outline of the hall and the doorway at the end of it. He could hear the ticking of a clock, a slow and torturous marking of each second that he waited. 

He knew not to call out, not to make a move. Chanyeol sucked in a deep breath, willing his shoulders to relax. 

_ Blue _ . That was the safe word they had decided on.

When Chanyeol picked up a faint whiff of pheromones, he did his best to ignore it. He shouldn’t know, he shouldn’t anticipate, he shouldn’t brace himself, he shouldn’t––

The kick landed squarely on the back of his knee, sending a shot of pain up his thigh and into his back. Chanyeol crumpled, falling to his knees with a heavy thud. His arms shot out to lessen his fall, his palms hitting the cold wood floor hard. 

Before Chanyeol could react, there was an arm around his neck, forcing him into a choke-hold. His hands clawed at the arm that had wrapped around his throat, attempting to pry it off, but the attacker was too strong. He kicked lamely trying to gain leverage with his lower half but failed. He was being dragged down the long hall, the heels of his dress shoes scraping against the worn wood flooring, emitting an annoying high-pitched yowl.

“Stop, stop,” Chanyeol yelled, trying to resist the force that was bringing him deeper inside the dark abode. His attacker didn’t listen, at one point reaching forward and grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling it hard. 

Chanyeol’s shin collided with a doorframe, sending another bolt of pain up his leg. He kicked, the bottom of his shoe hitting the wall hard, the crack of plaster sounding in the darkness. He lost one of his shoes, somewhere in the process of being dragged down the hall. 

“Stop struggling,” a deep voice hissed in his ear. The arm on his neck tightened until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. His attacker had his chin pushed up his windpipe constricted. Chanyeol felt dizzy, which sent him into a greater struggle. He clawed at the arm again, only stopping when he was slammed hard into the floor, knocking the wind out of him. 

Chanyeol was disoriented and hurt, enough so that once his attacker released him, he didn’t have the energy to try to get away. He laid on the floor, trying to catch his breath, sucking in a gulp of air. His vision blurred, but he could see something move in the darkness, a blurry shape that vaguely resembled a man. 

A door slammed shut, and a light flickered on, a dim light cast out from behind him. Chanyeol coughed, sucking in another breath. He struggled to sit up, but a hand on his shoulder pressed him back down, into the floor. A face loomed over him, a man with his mouth in a tight line, darkness in his eyes. 

Chanyeol was helpless as his hands were captured. The man gripped his wrists and shoved him on his side, pulling his arms behind him. Chanyeol’s shoulders arched back when the man tightened a rope around his wrists, contorting his arms painfully. The rope burned against his skin, digging tightly into it. 

“Please, please,” Chanyeol begged, utterly helpless. He moved his legs, a pathetic attempt to kick, to throw his weight, to fight back in any way. 

Chanyeol writhed. He felt pathetic, a strong alpha like himself being subdued so quickly. He blinked up his attacker, who smirked down at him.  _ Omega _ . He could smell it on him, could smell the scent that should entice him with its demureness, its helplessness. Instead, the man was pushing him into the floor, his thick forearms caging Chanyeol in. 

“Alphas should be careful where they wander at night,” the man said. His voice was deep but tinged with something melodic, something Chanyeol couldn’t place. “Bad things can happen to them.”

“W-what are you going to do?” Chanyeol swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. He stared into the dark eyes of the omega.

The Omega didn’t answer. Instead, the Omega leaned back, his hand roughly moving over Chanyeol’s jacket, lower, to his hip, where he squeezed Chanyeol so hard it hurt. 

“No, no–” Chanyeol begged. He couldn’t, no, an alpha should never–

“Shut up, slut,” the man said gruffly.  

The omega wasn’t as tall as Chanyeol nor as broad, but he was stronger. Chanyeol didn’t stand a chance when the man grabbed his arm and pulled him towards a corner of the room where a mattress was lying on the floor. 

“You can’t do this, you can’t,” Chanyeol pleaded, blinking back tears. 

“I told you to shut up.” The back of the Omega’s hand collided with Chanyeol’s jaw, no doubt leaving a mark. His skin burned. His neck was still throbbing, and now his cheek was stained red, not to mention the pain he felt in his shoulders and back from the ties.

Chanyeol bit his tongue. He pressed against the ropes that bound his wrists, the fibers digging into his flesh. He was sure he had already lost skin in some places, the ropes so tight, the smallest movements causing painful friction that would certainly tear until his skin was raw and bleeding. 

The Omega was on top of him in a second, his lips crushing against Chanyeol’s, his hands pulling at Chanyeol’s expensive clothing until the sound of fabric ripping could be heard. He was rough, his teeth grazing down Chanyeol’s neck, his nails digging into the flesh that was exposed when he ripped Chanyeol’s clothing away piece by piece. 

Chanyeol registered the pain, his body tensing up, his mind shouting at him to get away. His nerves screamed at the patches of hurt the Omega had inflicted in him, fear seizing his muscles, his mind. 

“You’re a fucking whore to come in here,” the Omega growled into his ear, his palm pressing into Chanyeol’s side, now exposed, his tattered dress shirt and suit jacket on the floor. “An alpha whore.”

When Chanyeol felt the man’s hand move to the waist of his pants, he bucked up in a failed attempt to throw the Omega from him. The man didn’t budge; instead, he slipped his hand passed Chanyeol’s waistband, into his boxers, smoothing his palm to Chanyeol’s cock. 

“Only a slut like you would be hard from this,” the Omega laughed, palming against Chanyeol’s growing erection.

Chanyeol tilted his head back. He was in pain, and he felt humiliated. The man tugged at Chanyeol’s erection, and Chanyeol couldn’t fight that the roughness, the sensation, felt  _ good _ . He found pleasure in having his legs forced apart, his pants roughly tugged down his hips. 

“You’re just a cunt to fuck, alpha, you know that? Or did they not teach you that alphas should submit too?” The Omega’s nails raked along Chanyeol’s thighs as he pulled Chanyeol’s pants off, a seam tearing from the rough treatment. 

Chanyeol choked and cried, wishing he could control the way his body reacted. He was hard, pre-cum already leaking from the tip of his cock. 

He watched the Omega through eyes swollen with tears. He was small, dark, with wide eyes and a strong jaw, something sinister playing on his face as his eyes raked over Chanyeol’s disheveled nude form.

“You’re going to take my dick good, aren’t you alpha?” The Omega taunted, his hands pressing into Chanyeol’s inner thighs and pushing, opening him up wide. 

“I-no, please no,” Chanyeol begged. His throat was searing with pain from being choked, his voice cracking.

The Omega leaned in, stopping only an inch in front of Chanyeol, their eyes meeting. “Alphas don’t make slick, so this is going to hurt.”

Chanyeol felt like his spine was being ripped from his body. The man lined his cock up and thrust into Chanyeol’s unprepared hole in one push of his hips, tearing through all resistance. Chanyeol screamed and gasped. He wanted to curl in on himself, to hide, to flee the intense hurt the Omega had inflicted on him. He felt the pain down to his bones.

When the Omega pulled out and thrust back in, Chanyeol dug his heels into the mattress, his arms fighting against the ropes, back arching. 

“You like this, whore?” the Omega looked down, to where his dick was inside of Chanyeol. “Like being fucked by a stranger?”

Chanyeol’s hips jerked. His muscles were spasming in reaction to the attack.

“Gonna come in you, alpha. Make you a bitch. Tough alpha, getting fucked by an omega.”

Another hard thrust and Chanyeol knew it was coming. He could recognize the feeling of being on edge, standing on that cliff, wanting to jump. His nerves were on fire, screaming at the pain in his throat, in his back, in his ass, along his face, along his thighs. He felt dizzy as he blinked away tears, his lips parted while he cried and begged. 

“Slut, you’re nothing but a cheap slut,” the Omega said through gritted teeth, driving harder into Chanyeol’s hole, inflicting more pain with each push. “Look at you, dick hard while I fuck into you.”

Pain,  _ so much pain _ . The tears were flowing, and somewhere the voice of his attacker kept whispering humiliating words until finally, he could almost swear it seemed like the sound had gotten farther away. 

But that was impossible. 

And then it hit. Chanyeol sucked in a breath when it happened. He was no longer feeling the burning pain; he was no longer struggling. From the top of his head it felt like blood rushed coolly down his cheeks, to his neck, a rivulet along his spine, reaching out to his limbs. A tingly sensation danced along his skin, the room suddenly seemed very far away. 

Relaxed. Chanyeol was relaxed, shoulders no longer tense. The only thing he could hear, cared to hear, was the deep melodic voice who spoke to him, the voice that closed back in on him like a comforting cage. He was crying still, despite it all, and he knew he was begging. “Please, sir, more sir.” “Harder, fuck me harder.”

The tension that Chanyeol carried with him through the long workdays, the meetings, the intense pressure of his job, the expectations from his personal life was being replaced piece by piece with this bizarre contentment only the Omega could drive into him. And he wanted more. So much more of it. 

“Come on, Chanyeol, come. Show me how much you like it, slut.”

Anything. 

He would do anything. 

He  _ wanted _ to do anything. 

“Please, more please,” Chanyeol choked out, riding the bliss that had descended over him. The tears that fell now were welcomed. Freedom was washing over him, and he couldn’t get enough. 

Lips met Chanyeol’s neck, under his ear, a press of soft lips. Kyungsoo’s dick continued to slam into him, breaching his ring of muscles. Another type of release was coming, separate from the subspace Chanyeol had entered. 

“You’re going to come, aren’t you, slut?” Kyungsoo hissed, and it was enough. 

The coil in Chanyeol’s middle released, his muscles tensing then relaxing while the warmth spread along his body. He cum landed on his stomach, some on Kyungsoo’s. Chanyeol spasmed through the haze, feeling floaty, disengaged, free of stress, happy in a way he could never feel with anyone else. Free. So free. 

He knew Kyungsoo was coming inside of him, he registered the guttural noise the omega made when he orgasmed, but it sounded far away, not like it was on top of him. Chanyeol knew a tear was still falling down his cheek but understood it in a way he could only describe as abstract, like it was happening to someone else. Because now it didn’t matter. 

He was drifting, his body flooding with endorphins, covering up the pain that had gotten him to that state. He had entered his subspace, the place he could only trust Do Kyungsoo to get him to. 

“You’re so good, so good Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo was whispering, pressing soft kisses along his jaw, his once rough hands turning gentle. “You did so well for me. Such a good job. ”

  
  
  


Chanyeol existed in the haze, feeling boneless, sated, and peaceful. The pads of Kyungsoo’s fingers pressed lightly into his scalp, tracing circles. Chanyeol’s bare chest rose and fell slowly, his breathing deep and steady. Gone was the high-pressure job, the deadlines, the expectations; in its place was the feeling of a life without worry, without decisions or pros and cons.  _ In its place was Kyungsoo. _

Kyungsoo had wrapped him in a blanket, Chanyeol tended to get cold as he left his subspace. Ointment had been spread on his cheek and neck; his wrists were tenderly covered in lotion to alleviate the rope burns. His ass hurt, but not as much as it probably should have. He had prepared, stretching and lubing an hour before leaving the office, which had helped it not tear. 

Kyungsoo took care of him, whispering words of praise as they relaxed in Kyungsoo’s bedroom, snuggled up in the oversized wrought iron bed, the television droning on in the background. 

“Do you want to sleep here?” Kyungsoo asked, his voice soft and low. 

Chanyeol nodded, too tired and relaxed to consider moving. He usually slept at Kyungsoo’s for at least a few hours after their scenes, but it was rare that he would stay the entire night. He decided to make an exception this time. Work had been so stressful lately; life had been so stressful. And here, tucked under Kyungsoo’s down comforter, with Kyungsoo softly tracing circles in his hair, Chanyeol could be himself. Could finally be himself, and he didn’t want to leave it if he didn’t have to.  

  
  
  


Chanyeol woke up to the light streaming in the window, the noise of a car alarm going off nearby. Kyungsoo’s neighborhood was forever noisy. He should have known it wouldn’t die down even in the early morning. 

He glanced to his left. Kyungsoo was asleep next to him. His face was so relaxed, his chest rising and falling slowly. Chanyeol turned onto his stomach and leaning on his arms, he unabashedly stared, appreciating the curve of Kyungsoo’s nose, the fullness of his lips.

He’s beautiful, Chanyeol thought, wanting to reach over and trace his finger along the curves of Kyungsoo’s mouth. He raised his hand to do just that, letting it fall when Kyungsoo stirred, his eyelids fluttering. 

Kyungsoo smiled when he saw Chanyeol, a sleepy grin. “G’morning,” he mumbled. 

“Morning,” Chanyeol answered, still lying on his stomach, watching Kyungsoo with unbridled appreciation. The omega was too beautiful, Chanyeol thought. He could even call him perfect,  if Chanyeol was feeling particularly sentimental. 

“How are you feeling today?” Kyungsoo asked, reaching his hand out to touch Chanyeol’s bare shoulder. 

“I’m good,” Chanyeol answered. Kyungsoo was always attentive in the couple of days following one of their scenes. Sub drop was a very real thing, even if Chanyeol rarely had it very bad, at least compared to some people he talked to. 

Kyungsoo would text often just in case, checking up on Chanyeol as much as he could over the succeeding forty-eight hours, trying to make sure he wasn’t crashing hard after reaching the high of his subspace, making sure he wasn’t left in a fog of depression and anxiety, uncertainty seizing him as his high rapidly depleted. 

Sometimes during this time, they would go out and catch a movie or watch a sports game at a bar the next day, a friendly way to just be in proximity in case Chanyeol had a drop. Somewhere in the back of Chanyeol’s head, he registered how date-like these meetups were, but he didn’t dwell on it. 

“You have to work today?” Kyungsoo asked, knowing full well the answer. Chanyeol worked almost every day of the week. It was the life of an up-and-coming Junior Law Partner. 

“Hmmm,” Chanyeol hummed in response. “Will you be here on Friday?”

“Of course,” Kyungsoo answered, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on Chanyeol’s lips. “Of course, I will be.”

Chanyeol leaned into Kyungsoo’s touch. Only Do Kyungsoo could make him feel like there was something bright in his future amid the endless meetings, the continuous pressure, the continual stress, and world of an alpha. 

“How is the case going?” Kyungsoo asked. 

“We’re getting close,” Chanyeol murmured. It had been a year since he had taken up the high-profile case, one that was sure to make him a Senior Partner if he succeeded. It was why his life had gotten that much more chaotic. 

“Good.” Kyungsoo smoothed his hand over Chanyeol’s cheek. “Good.”

_ Only Do Kyungsoo.  _

  
  


It was a big case, one that could make or break the firm. A politician was involved in a not so secret scandal with a business that had high profile links to organized crime. Chanyeol was assigned to lead the case, and if he didn’t fuck it up, there was a genuine possibility he would end up a senior partner in the firm. 

Being competitive, Chanyeol ate up the opportunity. He would shine, doing a better job than any of the other partners could. He would build the firm up, earn them a hefty payout, and increase his own prominence in the process. 

He would also accrue a hell of a lot of stress and late nights in the process. He needed Kyungsoo, his dominant, more than ever before. He also could see him far less than he wished. With the trial date fast approaching, Chanyeol missed seeing Kyungsoo for the first time since they had met. He couldn’t make it on Friday, having to text a rushed apology while he hurried to his next meeting. 

Kyungsoo, predictably, was concerned. Later that night, while Chanyeol shoved takeout in his face while typing away at his laptop at home, his phone rang. He had to read the name on his caller ID twice to make sure he saw it right, Kyungsoo never called him, he only ever texted. 

“Hello,” Chanyeol answered, suddenly worried something had happened. 

“Hey. How are you?” Kyungsoo asked. His voice sounded nice, it always sounded nice. Chanyeol loved it, loved how it could make him feel. Even now, he found some strange sense of safety in it. 

“Tired. Busy. Frustrated.” Chanyeol sighed, sinking back into the sofa, his laptop set on the coffee table to be momentarily forgotten. 

“Are you eating?”

“Yeah, I am. I promise.”  _ If you could consider cheap takeout actual food.  _ “Sorry I couldn’t make it.”

_ “ _ Do you mind if I come over?” Kyungsoo asked. 

“Come over?” Chanyeol repeated dumbly. He could count on one hand how many times Kyungsoo had been to his house because it had been precisely once, and that was to pick Chanyeol up when they met up one weekend to go watch a sports game. If they ever did things in private of a sexual nature, it was always at Kyungsoo’s apartment, behind the red door. 

“Not do anything like sex or anything, but just to visit. I um, well I miss you,” Kyungsoo said. Chanyeol could sense how awkward Kyungsoo must have felt saying it, judging by the slight hesitation in his voice. 

Chanyeol smiled widely, fondness bubbling up in his chest. Kyungsoo missed him?

“Yes, please. It would be nice. Just don’t judge how dirty and messy my apartment is. Or how much I look like shit because I had a breakout yesterday and oh my god, I look worse than I did in high school.”

Kyungsoo chuckled. “I won’t judge. I’ll be over in half an hour.”

Kyungsoo was coming over.  _ To his apartment _ . Kyungsoo would be in his apartment. Chanyeol suddenly felt unbearably happy. 

  
  
  


“I’ve never seen you this stressed out before.” Kyungsoo could tell immediately, saying out loud what Chanyeol very well knew and couldn’t argue with. 

“It’s a big case,” Chanyeol explained, padding over to his sofa. 

Kyungsoo gripped a soda in his hand, one that he had fished out of Chanyeol’s disaster of a refrigerator. (“Seriously do you not buy food? You need to buy food.”)

“If we win this, I’ll make senior partner.” Chanyeol sat on the sofa, patting the cushion next to him. Kyungsoo eyed it but took a seat in the armchair a few feet away, leaving Chanyeol to give him the evil eye. 

“Make sure you’re eating and sleeping, even if you’re busy. And don’t forget to drink water,” Kyungsoo lectured. “If you need me to bring you food you can call or text me, you know. My schedule isn’t as rigid as yours.”

Kyungsoo was a freelance graphic designer, working from home and setting his own schedule. He had quit working at the club a month after they met; it had been his second job and more for spending money than anything else, and he didn’t really need it. Money was never really his thing anyway, hence his apartment in a shady part of town (“yeah but the rent’s cheap” “but you could be killed!” “but the rent’s cheap”). He could rush out at odd times if he needed to and for that Chanyeol kind of envied him. 

“I’m fine, okay. I promise.” Chanyeol felt warm and downright mushy that Kyungsoo was so attentive, fretting over him so openly.  “I might not be able to make it to your place as often until the case is done.”

“That worries me too.” Kyungsoo set his soda on the coffee table. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together. 

“You want to end it?” Chanyeol squeaked mind reeling, panic set in. 

“What? No.” Kyungsoo shook his head. “I just worry that without our time together you’ll let the stress build up. I don’t want that.”

Chanyeol swallowed away the panic. “I won’t. I mean, I’ll be stressed, sure, but if it gets to be too much, I’ll call. I promise.” God, he  loved, liked this man. 

Kyungsoo nodded. He stood and walked over to the sofa, taking the seat Chanyeol had initially offered him. He scooted closer, and without warning leaned in, pressing his lips to Chanyeol’s cheeks. A burst of affection welled in Chanyeol’s chest.

“I missed you,” Chanyeol said quietly, leaning in to return the favor. 

  
  


One missed appointment with Kyungsoo turned into two, then three, and soon four weeks has passed without Chanyeol having taken the familiar path down the narrow alley to the red door. It hadn’t been four weeks since he had seen Kyungsoo, however. Kyungsoo had shown up at his apartment with dinner a few times since their initial conversation, fawning over Chanyeol and lecturing him about taking care of himself. 

And then finally it was D-Day, and Chanyeol and his team were sitting across from an impressive set of high-priced lawyers from across town, an arbitrator at the head of the table. All Chanyeol’s hard work came down to that day, to that room, and he absolutely nailed it. He walked out of the courthouse a senior partner, a smile on his face, his tired shoulders held high. 

  
  


“Martin wants to see you about your next case. Oh, and Lee wants you to call him about his retainer.” Junmyeon, Chanyeol’s beta secretary, hurried to catch up to him, a stack of folders balanced precariously in his arms. “The president of UniDesign called and wanted me to pass on his congratulations to you for today’s win.”

Chanyeol stopped dead in his tracks, sending Junmyeon scrambling to stop and not drop the stack of folders in the process. 

“He called?”

“Yeah. And a few others.” Junmyeon nodded. “Ah, and you have a visitor, but he’s in with Baekhyun right now.”

“Who?” Chanyeol quirked an eyebrow.

“No idea, sir. Baekhyun said he knew him though.”

Chanyeol pursed his lips. “Okay, very good. Make sure you call about tomorrow’s lunch appointment.”

“Yes, sir.” His secretary started walking away, stopping when Chanyeol called after him. 

“Good job yourself, Junmyeon.” Chanyeol flashed a thumbs up. The man smiled widely, murmuring his thanks. 

  
  


 

Chanyeol began the trek to Baekhy un’s office. He realized that very soon they would have offices on the same floor. Baekhyun was already a senior partner, and now Chanyeol had earned his place among the ranks. He would be moving upstairs soon, into a bigger office with a better view.

And more stress. Chanyeol couldn’t escape it in this career; it was impossible. But to add to it? He was foolish. Foolish, but in love, with a paycheck. And he had ways to unwind. He had the best way to relax. 

As he neared Baekhyun’s office, Chanyeol could almost swear he heard Do Kyungsoo’s voice reminding him to relax, asking him if he ate. He smiled. Now that the case was over, he would have time to go visit Kyungsoo, and the thought had him perking up, feeling the energy he hadn’t had in a few weeks. 

Chanyeol nodded at Baekhyun’s secretary as he walked past, pushing the door open without knocking first. He knew Baekhyun wouldn’t be a stickler about being buzzed in first, considering he would be expecting Chanyeol. 

Chanyeol opened his mouth to speak but didn’t, freezing at the entry, the door sliding shut behind him. 

_ Kyungsoo _ . Sitting on Baekhyun’s desk. Smiling. 

His hand was resting on Baekhyun’s hand where it sat on his desk. Kyungsoo’s head was tilted to the side. He was smiling, his dark eyes fixed on Baekhyun. They were laughing. Chanyeol frowned, the space between his brows wrinkling in confusion. What could possess Kyungsoo to be there, to be in his place of work? With Baekhyun of all people?!

From across the room, he could smell the scene he had only experienced once before, a few months back, the very edge of it hitting late at night as Chanyeol got dressed and left. It was Kyungsoo’s but subtly different, his body preparing for his heat, adding an undercurrent of pheromones to attract an available alpha. 

Chanyeol felt the fire explode from his stomach, the anger, the possessive alpha feeling that he couldn’t swallow down consumed him. He saw red. Kyungsoo was smiling at Baekhyun. His omega smiling at an alpha. Baekhyun leaning in, smiling back, casting off his own pheromones to respond to Kyungsoo’s.

Chanyeol stalked up to Kyungsoo and grabbed his hand without warning, tugging him away from Baekhyun, who watched them go with a quirked eyebrow and wide eyes. Kyungsoo didn’t resist, allowing Chanyeol to roughly lead him away from Baekhyun and out the door. Chanyeol didn’t say a word, not letting go until they were two floors down, in Chanyeol’s office, the door shut behind them. 

Only then, with a ragged breath, did Chanyeol fully understand what he had just done. He felt half insane; hell, he probably was half crazy considering he had just dragged Kyungsoo away from a senior partner at his firm on the exact day Chanyeol had received his long-awaited promotion. It wasn’t exactly a stellar career move on his part. 

Kyungsoo was predictably staid, in control. He watched Chanyeol, not betraying a hint of emotion. 

“You’re–  I can smell– you’re in preheat,” Chanyeol stammered like it would excuse his behavior. The words he didn’t dare speak revolted him.  _ You’re in preheat, and you’re my omega, you can’t be near him, you can’t be near another alpha, or I’ll snap _ . And I hate myself, I fucking hate myself for doing it. 

He hated it so much. Chanyeol hated how being controlling was what he was supposed to do, that society told him he should thirst for it. And he hated that he had some fucked up instinct that made him do something he wouldn’t normally do. He hated all of it, because in the end, it wasn’t what he wanted, any more than he guessed Kyungsoo wanted to be a needy omega, on his knees begging to be fucked.  

_ Shit.  _ Chanyeol closed his eyes, wishing he could hide away. 

“Kyungsoo, I’m – I’m sorry, I shouldn’t––“

“On your knees,” Kyungsoo ordered.

Chanyeol opened his eyes wide, staring down at the small omega. Kyungsoo repeated himself, tone even. 

“On your knees.”

Chanyeol let out a shaky breath and complied, sinking onto the carpeting of his office, staring up at Kyungsoo, full of regret and self-revulsion.

Kyungsoo turned and walked to the door, clicking the lock shut before returning to stand in front of the kneeling alpha. 

Chanyeol started to speak, words coming out shaky, “W-why are you h-he-“

Kyungsoo reached forward, gripping a hand full of Chanyeol’s hair. He yanked Chanyeol’s head back, pain spreading down Chanyeol’s neck and across his scalp.  

Kyungsoo leaned in, fixing Chanyeol with a heavy gaze. “It’s been too long,” Kyungsoo said in a voice Chanyeol recognized as his dominant one. 

Chanyeol swallowed, the anticipation buzzing in him, stirring up. It had been too long, too fucking long since he had been able to let go. The stress had been eating at him, which Kyungsoo had noticed during their late-night meetings. Yet he hadn’t found the time or means to release it in the last month. The case was done;, now he could do something, and Kyungsoo was right there, waiting for him, ready to help him. 

“Tell me the word,” Kyungsoo said, staring down at Chanyeol.

“Blue,” Chanyeol repeated. 

Consent. There must always be consent and a safe word; it was something they both understood well. There had to be impeccable trust when it came to a relationship like theirs. 

Kyungsoo leaned down, his hand caressing Chanyeol’s cheek. “Stay still,” he instructed. “Close your eyes.”

Chanyeol did as he was told. When he felt Kyungsoo’s fingers on his zipper, he tensed, anticipating what might come next. He could smell Kyungsoo’s preheat strongly, the scent surrounded him. It made it harder for Chanyeol to relax, to listen, creating an internal struggle he was less than pleased about. 

Kyungsoo unzipped Chanyeol’s pants. He carefully tugged the fabric lower on Chanyeol’s hoops. When cold air hit Chanyeol’s cock, he bit his bottom lip. It was uncomfortable, not necessarily arousing. 

And then something even colder touched his cock, and he shivered, somehow managing to still keep his eyes closed tightly. He felt Kyungsoo’s fingers slide down his dick, a ring of some sort on his cock. When the cold, sterile metal touched his skin, Chanyeol opened his eyes, unable to keep them closed. He looked down to see a cock cage on his semi-flaccid dick, Kyungsoo turning a key to lock it into place. 

Kyungsoo looked up, meeting Chanyeol’s eyes. He stared at him, waiting in silence for the alpha to use the safe word. When only silence greeted him, Kyungsoo continued.

“You will not touch yourself. You cannot touch yourself,” Kyungsoo said firmly. “You dragged me away, Chanyeol. You don’t deserve to find release.”

Chanyeol breathed in Kyungsoo’s scent. “Yes, sir.”

Chanyeol heard a zipper, and then the musky smell of Kyungsoo’s preheat was in his face, close to his cheek, his nose, his lips. He could almost taste it, the arousing mixture of pheromones that spoke of Kyungsoo being biologically pliant and wanting. 

“Open your eyes,” Kyungsoo ordered. 

Chanyeol opened them, his face pressed firmly into Kyungsoo’s crotch, where the scent was the strongest. Kyungsoo wasn’t hard, his dick was flaccid, but the smell of slick was strong. Chanyeol breathed in, once then twice, his dick twitched in the cock cage. He was aroused, but unable to achieve an erection, the metal keeping his dick from hardening. 

Kyungsoo’s nails dug into Chanyeol’s scalp, small presses of pain as Chanyeol had his face pressed closer into Kyungsoo’s crotch. 

“You like how it smells, baby? Of course you do, you’re a slut,” Kyungsoo said.

Chanyeol sucked in a breath, his noise so deliciously close to Kyungsoo’s crotch. He wished he could dart his tongue out, taste the scent, be completely covered in it until he would know no other smell.

Chanyeol remained kneeling, Kyungsoo not saying a word, only pressing Chanyeol’s face closer if he started to let his shoulders relax, his nose moving a millimeter away. They stood like that for what seemed like hours, Chanyeol not entirely losing himself into subspace, but entering a slight haze that took the edge off. He wasn’t completely relaxed. He couldn’t be when he was aroused but had no release. No, he wasn’t relaxed, but he was co _ mfortable _ . Safe. He knew that soon, that night, Kyungsoo would take care of him some more. 

It hit Chanyeol how loving, how amazingly warm, and caring it all was. Kyungsoo had made a point to be there at the first moment he could, traveling to Chanyeol’s work to greet him when he could finally have a moment, when he could finally help Chanyeol destress. 

“You’ll get more tonight, baby,” Kyungsoo said in a low, dangerous voice, letting Chanyeol’s hair slip between his fingers. Kyungsoo stepped back, zipping up his fly.

Chanyeol looked up at Kyungsoo, already craving his deft hands and authoritative tone. 

“You are so predictable,” Kyungsoo said, tucking his dress shirt back into his pants. “Your alpha instinct comes out so easily. It’s like you couldn’t help but do something that deserved punishment.”

Of course, it was part of it. Kyungsoo was too smart, too calculating, and too careful of Chanyeol’s needs to not have figured it out. He knew Chanyeol too well. He knew that any shame would pass quickly now that he was there. 

“Be a good alpha, Chanyeol. I’ll send for you later.” Kyungsoo turned on his heels and strode from the office, unclicking the lock without a backward glance.

Chanyeol inhaled deeply, wanting Kyungsoo’s scent back more than anything. 

  
  
  


Chanyeol knew he looked like a mess, the afternoon had been a slow torturous drag, the cock cage firmly locked in place, his arousal simmering at the surface while he tried to focus on work. It was later at night, but not so late that the office was empty when Baekhyun called him up to his office. A feeling of mortification set in at the thought of seeing the Senior Partner again so soon after making an ass out of himself. 

The fabric of Chanyeol’s pants had rubbed against the cage, the cold metal surely bulging out. He felt like everyone could see it, even if they probably couldn’t. A tinge of humiliation clung to Chanyeol as he walked down the long corridors of the office, more fuel for what his body longed for. It made him feel hot and bothered, blood rushing to his cock, a ripple of pain following when his hardening dick pressed against the confines of the cage, preventing him from getting fully hard. 

It was torture, and Chanyeol loved it; it was what he needed this cycle of pain than pleasure. It’s what he craved, the sensations, the feelings, the natural response that was the only thing that ever let him really let go. 

Chanyeol swallowed down the need to moan, the want to fall to his knees. Baekhyun had called him to his office, and he had to behave himself, especially after how he had acted earlier in the day. Fuck, he needed to keep his job, especially now that he was a senior partner. If he had ruined it the day he was promoted, he would never forgive himself. 

Chanyeol stepped inside Baekhyun’s office with his hands clasped in front of him, head down. He could still smell Kyungsoo in the room, which had the hair on the back of his neck bristling. Chanyeol tensed and looked down, trying to concentrate on the geometric pattern of the carpeting. 

“I marked you out for the next three days. Jongdae can take care of your meetings.” 

Chanyeol’s head snapped up. “What? Why?!”

“Your omega’s in heat, Park. When that happens, you take time off.” Baekhyun stared at Chanyeol like he was a moron, then he snapped his fingers. “Ah, but of course. You only recently mated, huh. You wouldn’t know that since you seem to have never gotten laid in your life before now. Pulling an omega out of a senior partner’s office, pfft.”

“I-I di-” Chanyeol started. He was interrupted by Kyungsoo, who had quietly stood up from one of the corner chairs, coming stand beside him. Chanyeol hadn’t seen him there and suddenly felt all kinds of dumb. 

“He’s right. You should take the next few days off to spend time with me,  _ your mat _ e,” Kyungsoo said, his hand finding the small of Chanyeol’s back.

“Crazy you guys hooked up without me even knowing it,” Baekhyun mused. “Kyungsoo and I used to room together back in college. Small world, huh Park?”

“You did?” Chanyeol blinked at Baekhyun, then at Kyungsoo. 

“Yeah. Back before law school I tried my hand at graphic design and failed miserably. Kyungsoo was brilliant at it.” Baekhyun looked at Kyungsoo. “My condolences on mating with Chanyeol though. He’s about as alpha of an alpha as I’ve ever met, and if I recall, that wasn’t your thing, at least back in the day.”

Kyungsoo burst out laughing. Chanyeol stared, dumbstruck. “I think I can handle him,” Kyungsoo said, knowing full well that Chanyeol was a stereotypical alpha in a lot of places, but never with him. 

After a few muttered goodbyes, Chanyeol was following Kyungsoo out of Baekhyun’s office. 

“Mate?” he hissed, leaning in.

“Aren’t we?” Kyungsoo asked, raising his eyebrow. 

“I...” Chanyeol stumbled over his own feet, trying to keep up with Kyungsoo. “I guess?”

They had never really talked about it, mostly because they weren’t the couple who were looking for a conventional mate. Hell, they had never even said they were dating.

It wasn’t that Chanyeol didn’t like the sound of it, he did. He wanted  loved Kyungsoo a lot. He just hadn’t entertained it as a possibility. 

“Now come on. You can stay at my apartment if you’re okay with it. My heat should hit soon,” Kyungsoo said.

Chanyeol nodded and hurried his step, eager to get to his office and grab his coat. 

 

 

Kyungsoo wanted him to help him with his heat. Kyungsoo was telling people they were mates. Chanyeol smiled ear to ear, his hand twitching where it sat on the taxicab back seat. He wanted to reach over and put his larger hand over Kyungsoo’s smaller one, but he wasn’t sure how the omega might react. 

“Are you really that happy?” Kyungsoo asked, looking over and meeting Chanyeol’s eyes. His face was devoid of emotion, but Chanyeol knew by now that Kyungsoo was hard to read. He felt a lot, he just didn’t always show it. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I think I am,” Chanyeol answered. 

Sure, he was sporting a cock cage, and he was fighting with the knowledge Kyungsoo was secreting more and more pheromones. He was turned on and frustrated, and he really hated that Baekhyun knew Kyungsoo for some reason. But the fact Kyungsoo had come to his job, had taken the time to come to him the moment he knew he could, overwrote anything else. 

Kyungsoo leaned over and in a low voice whispered, “Good. I’ll try to make sure you stay that way.”

Chanyeol swallowed. Shit, whatever was going to happen when they got back to Kyungsoo’s was going to be amazing.  _ He knew it. _

  
  


 

Chanyeol ended up on Kyungsoo’s bed, his arms resting at his sides. Kyungsoo had captured his mouth in a searing kiss the moment the red door closed behind them, roughly slamming Chanyeol’s back against the door in the process. From there it was a blur, a familiar type of manhandling that seemed to intensify courtesy of Kyungsoo’s heat scent. 

Chanyeol was dragged to the bedroom, though this time he wasn’t thrown onto a mattress; instead, he was dragged up into Kyungsoo’s soft bed, a place that made him immediately feel warm and comforted and maybe a tad bit more expectant.  

“You will not touch yourself,” Kyungsoo ordered. He stood at the foot of the bed, his white dress shirt now untucked, his dark slacks hugging his hips in a way that made Chanyeol swallow thickly, his cheeks heating up. 

“Yes, sir,” Chanyeol said, looking up at the ceiling, attempting to focus on the crack that ran along one corner and not on the gorgeous omega who stood in front of him. 

The thrum was back, skittering along his skin, his nerve endings, his body knowing what was to come. He was anticipating, adrenaline starting to course through his veins, spurred on by the thick and musky scent of heat and the deep, even tone of the omega who stood at the foot of the bed. Blood was rushing to his cock only to find resistance against the metal of the cock cage. It hurt, to be physically restrained from having an erection. It hurt, but like all pain Kyungsoo inflicted, Chanyeol yearned for it. 

“An alpha slut,” Kyungsoo said, voice low. He approached the bed, his fingers going to the buttons of his shirt. He undid one of the tiny white buttons, then another, revealing the white undershirt that Chanyeol suddenly wanted very much to touch. To smell. Even from a few feet away, Kyungsoo smelled terrific. “Unable to do anything with an omega in heat. Can’t knot me, can’t fuck me, can you?”

Chanyeol sucked in a breath. “N-no,” he answered.

Kyungsoo’s hand found Chanyeol’s chin. He gripped it har, leaning forward until his full lips were almost touching Chanyeol’s. Kyungsoo’s eyes were dark as he squeezed Chanyeol’s jaw, forcing him to make eye contact. “Bet you want to knot me, don’t you? You want to knot your omega, fuck your seed into me, claim me. But you can’t.”

Chanyeol’s muscles tensed, the pain in his groin increasing. “I-I wa-want.”

Kyungsoo smirked. “You can’t even say it, can you, slut?”

Kyungsoo pressed his lips to Chanyeol’s, his tongue forcing its way inside of Chanyeol’s mouth a second later. Chanyeol let himself be kissed roughly, arching into the kiss, his body heating up. 

Kyungsoo tasted different now, and his scent was so strong that Chanyeol was sure he would lose his mind, would lose his ability to reason. To know what he wanted, what he always wanted. The alpha inside of him screamed for him to take, to dominate, to press Kyungsoo into the mattress and fuck him until he was properly knotted, Chanyeol’s cum swelling in his stomach. 

But no, no, that wasn’t, it wasn’t what Chanyeol wanted. His inner alpha could scream, could shout and try to win, but Chanyeol was stronger. He didn’t want to hear Kyungsoo begging, he didn’t want him to whine. No, he wanted to be the one whining because that was what he needed most, what his psyche required to survive, to thrive. His need for Kyungsoo’s harsh words and deft hand was stronger than his biological need as an alpha and somewhere deep inside Chanyeol knew it would always be stronger. His need for Kyungsoo was never made to fit into societal constructs, what he got out of their relationship was never meant to fit the generic mold. What they got from each other was an awakening, a journey to their pure form, bolstered by mutual support, affection, and caring. 

They needed each other. They wanted each other.  _ They understood each other. _

Kyungsoo bit Chanyeol’s bottom lip. Chanyeol’s tongue was flooded with a metallic taste, he knew Kyungsoo had broken skin. Chanyeol keened into the touch, whimpering when Kyungsoo pulled back, letting Chanyeol’s chin go.

Chanyeol looked up to see blood smeared on Kyungsoo’s lips, staining his teeth. 

Kyungsoo was calm as usual, leaning back, his thick fingers undoing his shirt buttons one by one before he was shrugging the shirt over his shoulders. Omegas in heat were supposed to lose their senses, or at least that is what Chanyeol had been taught. But Do Kyungsoo was in control, entirely in control, a fact which only made him more attractive to Chanyeol. 

“Undress,” Kyungsoo ordered. 

Chanyeol struggled to sit up, wincing once when the cock cage made his consistently burgeoning erection pinch. He fumbled to undo his shirt buttons, tearing the last few in frustration, the tiny plastic buttons landing somewhere on Kyungsoo’s unmade bed.  He scooted to the side of the bed, throwing his long legs over the edge and fumbling to undo his pants button. 

“Faster,” Kyungsoo said. 

Chanyeol tried to stand, stumbling once before righting himself. He gripped onto the small nightstand next to the bed to steady himself. 

“Alpha can’t even do the simplest things,” Kyungsoo hissed. 

Chanyeol turned to look at the omega, but instead of finding Kyungsoo standing and staring at him approvingly, he was instead met with Kyungsoo pushing him back. He fell onto the bed, the wind knocked out of him. 

Kyungsoo’s hands were on his hips immediately, pushing the fabric of his pants down, his nails raking into the skin on Chanyeol’s thighs. 

Chanyeol choked back a whimper. It stung, the place where Kyungsoo was digging into his skin, the place where Chanyeol was sure welts would form soon. It hurt the way he was jostled, his pants pulled down his calves and off his ankles. 

And it hurt the way his cock strained against the impossible, the erotic scent coming from Kyungsoo sending his body into a fight it couldn’t win. A battle he only fought half-heartedly, defeat his ultimate goal. 

Chanyeol clenched his hands into fists, balling them up at his side, willing himself to not try to touch, not try to do anything he wasn’t allowed to do. The task became more difficult the moment Kyungsoo straddled him, his thighs and plush ass resting on Chanyeol’s chest. 

The scent of heat was now overpowering. Chanyeol could feel Kyungsoo’s slick on his chest, a warm trail that oozed from the omega, wetting his thighs. Kyungsoo was fully nude, his clothes discarded at a moment that Chanyeol couldn’t pinpoint, so lost was he to his own task of undressing. 

Kyungsoo was hard, his cock wet at the tip with precum and flushed red. 

Chanyeol quivered, muscles tensing and then relaxing, his cock straining against metal in a dizzying fury. And then Kyungsoo was pressing his cock in Chanyeol’s face, scooting his hips forward until the head of his dick was touching Chanyeol’s chin, the muskiness of his cock thick in the air. 

Chanyeol opened his mouth, wanting to taste, to touch, to tongue at the head of Kyungsoo’s dick. He tried to angle his head but was stopped with a sharp tug to his hair, Kyungsoo pulling him back. 

“Did I say you could taste, whore?” Kyungsoo asked, tugging on Chanyeol’s hair once more for good measure. 

Chanyeol reveled in the increased pain that came from his dick pressing hard against the cock cage. If he wasn’t being restrained, he wondered if he would come then and there, releasing weeks of pent up frustrations and anger. 

Kyungsoo watched Chanyeol squirm, keeping his dick so close that Chanyeol could taste it if only he were allowed to. Seconds seemed to blur into a minute, maybe minutes, Chanyeol couldn’t be sure. All he knew was the pain of Kyungsoo tugging at his hair, the pain of the metal boring into his dick, the pain of Kyungsoo’s weight on his chest. The pain of Kyungsoo’s scent attempting to pull from him an instinct he wasn’t willing to entertain. 

_ Knot him.  _

_ Fuck him. _

_ Fuck your omega.  _

Chanyeol gasped, his legs falling to the side, chest heaving. 

Kyungsoo let Chanyeol’s hair slip through his fingers, then moved off of him, Chanyeol sucking in a few deep breaths now that the weight was off of his chest. He glanced down, noting the wet slick that Kyungsoo had left behind, marking the middle of his chest. 

“What will you tell people when an omega in heat fucks you, alpha?” Kyungsoo’s hands were already on Chanyeol’s thighs, pulling them apart, exposing his hole. Unlike in times past, Chanyeol hadn’t prepared himself beforehand. That meant he truly was tight and unstretched, which Kyungsoo knew. 

They might be in the middle of a scene, but Kyungsoo wasn’t going to let him get hurt, not like this at least. Fucking him raw would tear and could cause serious injury, one they both knew wasn’t in the cards for their relationship. 

Chanyeol gasped when he felt Kyungsoo’s fingers circling his rim, wet with slick. When Kyungsoo pressed a finger inside of Chanyeol, the alpha keened, back arching. Kyungsoo was working him open with his slick as the lubricant. It was arousing to know that Kyungsoo was pressing his own slick inside, opening him up with the product of his heat. Chanyeol keened, his breathing shaky as he digested what was occurring. 

The omega wasn’t gentle but was conscious of what he was doing, thrusting in fast but not adding more fingers than Chanyeol could take at one time. Chanyeol pressed back against the fingers, his dick trapped by the cock cage, straining to be freed. He was so turned on, and the pain wasn’t helping to take the edge off, if anything it was driving him closer, making him want more. 

Chanyeol bit his bottom lip, tasting more blood. When Kyungsoo began to thrust his fingers in at an angle, hitting his prostate, Chanyeol rasped out a moan. He tensed, shoulders pressing back into the mattress, his toes curling at the stimulation. 

“Look at you, wrecked by an omega, made to be slick just like a fertile bitch,” Kyungsoo hissed, the pads of his fingers pressing against Chanyeol’s prostate. 

Chanyeol’s face scrunched and a whimper left him, his toes curling and digging into the mattress.

And then Kyungsoo was removing his fingers, leaving a trail of slick coming out of Chanyeol’s gaping hole. Chanyeol clenched round air, wanting,  _ needing more _ . 

“Whores get what they deserve,” Kyungsoo grunted. He put his hands on Chanyeol’s knees and pushed, opening him painfully wide. 

Kyungsoo lined himself up and thrust in, his cock entering Chanyeol’s artificially slick hole in one hard thrust. The omega began fucking him fast, hips ramming forward, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the room. 

“Look at you, getting fucked by an omega in heat.” Kyungsoo pressed the heels of his palms into the skin of Chanyeol’s side, pounding again and again into the skin there, using his body as leverage. “Not even able to come.”

Chanyeol swallowed, his saliva tinged with the blood from his lip. The pain, it was so much. The pain was starting to encompass him, to flood his body, to dominate every part of him. The pain of being unable to be erect, of being unable to touch. His scalp stung, and his ass was being pounded into. The skin of his thighs were marked with welts, and his abdomen would no doubt end up bruised from the way Kyungsoo was pushing into him. 

Pain.

Pain.

Pleasure and pain. 

He could feel it coming, the rush, the place he longed for. The state of being that would let him let go of the stress and anxiety of a month spent working late nights, eating like shit, being yelled at by his boss, not thinking he could ever win the case but knowing he had to find confidence somewhere. 

Chanyeol clawed at the comforter and allowed his head to tilt back, exposing his neck.  _ Pain, searing pain. _

“Look at you, slut, unable to do anything but be fucked.”

Yes, yes. Pain. 

The subspace came over him like a tidal wave, spreading through his body, leaving his eyes glassed over. Small whimpers of pain tinged pleasure escaped his lips, his bottom lip still smeared with blood and starting to swell. Kyungsoo continued to drive into him but made time to reach in, unhooking the cock cage and freeing Chanyeol’s dick. 

But in his subspace, Chanyeol didn’t care, didn’t register that his cock was now free, that it was growing hard, no longer restricted by the cock cage. All he could do was ride the surge of endorphins that flooded his nervous system, flooded his brain, telling him that he would survive through the pain, that it was alright to let it go. It was okay. 

Kyungsoo was there, it was okay. 

He was okay. 

He could let it go. 

Chanyeol had no idea his knot had started to grow until Kyungsoo was gripping it, sheathing it with his hands, pumping Chanyeol’s pink, chafed cock with his hand, whispering words of praise. 

“Come on, Chanyeol. Let your knot burst, Chanyeol, come on.” Kyungsoo slowed down, his thrusts now timed with the strokes to Chanyeol’s cock, the knot moving towards the head. 

Chanyeol felt the muscles coil in his abdomen and knew he was close, but an orgasm couldn’t override the feeling of freedom, of relaxation, that he now clung to. When his knot burst, sending cum shooting onto his chest and abdomen and on Kyungsoo as well, he cried out, a noise that was met with Kyungsoo’s own cry of pleasure as he came inside of Chanyeol, hips stuttering while he fucked them both through their orgasm. 

Safe.

Free.

Himself.

“You’re so good, Chanyeol. You were so good for me,” Kyungsoo whispered, planting soft kisses along Chanyeol’s tear stained face, along his brow. “So good.”

  
  


Chanyeol reached over, brushing the back of his knuckles on Kyungsoo’s forehead, smoothing the Omega’s bangs away. 

Kyungsoo smiled, moving, he pressed his lips to the back of Chanyeol’s hand. Three days had gone by in a blur. The room reeked of sweat and sex, cheap pizza, and the orange soda Kyungsoo drank one after another. It was a mess of clothing, of blankets and a few towels. A pair of handcuffs were on the floor, barely covered by an old t-shirt Kyungsoo had worn the day before. Some ropes, a cock cage, and the pink dildo that Chanyeol liked were scattered elsewhere in the room. On the desk was the first aid kit, a few folded towels, and heavy blankets – the things that came after their scenes, the things that had witnessed sweet words whispered as they fell asleep in each other’s arms. 

Kyungsoo’s heat had broken a few hours before dawn on the third day, and Chanyeol had, in a way, broken with him. They had fucked more than Chanyeol thought possible. Kyungsoo because even if he didn’t want to be knotted, he needed release and Chanyeol because he had a months’ worth of stress and anxiety to rid himself of. 

Chanyeol had assumed they would both sleep most of the day, but a few hours later, they were both awake, staring at each other like a couple of lovestruck teenagers. 

“So, we’re mates,” Chanyeol said, not really asking. 


End file.
